Turning Lucius
by Greta Jameson
Summary: Lucius tells the aurors the tale of how he met Voldemort
1. The Tyranny of History

A Note from the author: Hogwarts and all of the established characters attached to it belong to JK Rowling. The original characters and backstory, I would like to claim as my own (if it is legal to do so).  
  
(This was once part of the much larger Traveller's Tale, in which Miranda fakes her death to recruit Lucius into Dumbledore's service. But I thought it made a nice little character sketch of a much misunderstood Malfoy . . . )  
  
The story is set after the end of book four.  
  
Please, don't take it so seriously. I just make this stuff up!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Turning Lucius  
  
By Greta Jameson  
  
1: The Tyranny of History  
  
Lucius sat alone in his room. His eyes swept over the cot in the corner, the large cobbles of the dungeon's wall and the heavy oak door and he wondered when they would come. He knew it must be morning because the torches had lit up a couple of hours ago and when he was in the bath someone had left a breakfast tray on the table for him.  
  
He drank the bitter dregs in his cup, nibbled on the last of the toast and began to nervously paw through the drawers of the old roll-top desk. It was filled with sheets of parchment, but there were no quills and no razors for cutting them - nothing sharp.  
  
He paused from his examination of the desk's contents and smiled. The air had become suddenly moist - a late summer shower. He listened as the steady patter of falling drops slowed and imagined the world above. After summer showers, steam always rose from the streets and sidewalks of London giving the city an eerie, swamp-like look.  
  
The aurors had confiscated his wand, so instead, he stretched his arms and blue sparks crackled at his fingertips. He directed his energy and willed the chair to move but it remained at rest. Given the amount of power he projected at it, the chair should have flown across the room. But in this cell, he was unable to work any magic at all.  
  
The lock on the door slid back and two wizards in dark wool robes entered and sat down at the table.  
  
"Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy, I'm Jim Goldberg and this is Tony Costello," the younger of the two men said nodding to the white-haired auror to his left. "You're going to be seeing a lot of us over the next week or so. Sorry for having to keep you cooped-up in here. You'll be able to move around a bit more in a few days."  
  
"I look forward to it," Lucius drawled to emphasize his discomfort. "The worst part of it all is that there aren't any windows. I can hardly tell night from day,"  
  
"We're going to be talking a lot over the next few days," Jim continued. "There's a lot we need to know, and it'll go much quicker if you cooperate. If you need a break, or food or just want to stretch your legs, just let us know, OK?"  
  
Lucius nodded.  
  
As Tony opened his notebook and rolled up his sleeves, Jim took a long look at Lucius. He was tall and lean, had broad shoulders and looked very strong. Lucius smiled affably at Jim. He knew that Jim was sizing him up, so he tossed the careless waves of his blonde hair over his shoulder, leaned back in his chair, and let him look.  
  
"Now then," Tony began, "When did you first meet Voldemort?"  
  
"I was twenty-two, no twenty-three years old," Lucius began. "My parents had thrown me out the year before, after putting up with my disgraceful behavior for several years."  
  
"Disgraceful behavior?"  
  
"What you would expect from a troubled young man: fighting, drinking, the wrong sort of women. They finally asked me to leave when I steadfastly refused to do anything useful with myself. I wouldn't go in for advanced medical education or training of any sort, and I didn't have any respectable hobbies or interests to pursue. And frankly, I had begun to embarrass them - so they asked me to leave."  
  
"And where did you go?"  
  
"The wizarding section of Bayswater, not far from the Park. They would have preferred I live in a better area, of course, but the neighbors more or less tolerated my behavior, so it worked for me."  
  
"And how did you support yourself?" Jim asked, although he already knew the answer.  
  
"I got a check from my father's solicitor every month, Lucius smiled. "It was more than enough to live on. I squandered most of it."  
  
"O.K., let's backtrack a bit. We've seen your school records. You weren't a bad student: average marks, no disciplinary issues. You did receive written reprimands for a couple of mischievous pranks, but nothing out of the ordinary. What caused all of these problems after you finished school?"  
  
Lucius looked at the two aurors and then at the wall where the windows should have been and asked, "Do I have to talk about that?"  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid so."  
  
"Well, when I was at Hogwarts, I fell in love with a girl, Madeline Greenstone - a Slytherin the same age as me," Lucius began as he nervously started to pick at the skin around his fingernails. And after school, we got very serious about each other. Both of our families seemed pleased, so we started to talk about declaring, even though we were still quite young. Privately, of course, she had already chosen me, and I felt as if I were the luckiest young . . ." he stopped and bit his lip to keep from crying in front of his interrogators. "Look, I really don't want to go into this."  
  
"We can stop for the moment, Mr. Malfoy. But we'll have to go back and cover it at some point. We need to understand your state of mind when you first encountered Him."  
  
"Best to get it over with then, "Lucius said steeling himself to continue. "Everything was fine for a couple of years. And then Maddie came over one evening in a hysterical state. For the longest time, she just cried and kissed me as we sat in the garden. Then she told me that her parents had agreed to Sebastian Snape's request for her to marry his eldest son, Salazar. I could hardly believe it! By that time, arranged marriages had been out of fashion for over a century. I told her to ignore the whole thing. I told her that we could go live elsewhere, until the whole affair was forgotten. And then . . ." He shaded his face with his right hand and choked, "For as long as I live, I will never forget the way she stiffened in my arms. Right then and there, I knew that she had already decided to go along with their plans."  
  
After a couple of minutes of silence, Tony said, "We're sorry to have to ask you this, Lucius, but could you please continue?"  
  
"Right," he said, swallowing hard. "I begged her to reconsider, but she just kept on saying that she had to. She said that she would always love me, but that we shouldn't see each other anymore. And then she just got up and walked off home. My whole world had crumbled around me, and I was powerless to do anything about it. I was too numb to move, and I sat there in the garden half the night, breathing in those stinking wisteria. I've hated their sickly-sweet smell ever since."  
  
"Did you do anything to try to change her mind?"  
  
"Oh yes, I tried to see her the very next day, but wasn't allowed to. Her father threatened me, and I responded so forcefully, that I knocked him out. Maddie came running down the steps, but instead of coming to me, she fell to his aid, and told me to go away and never come back. I was devastated. For days or maybe weeks, I just lay in my room. Some time later, I started to go out at night. At first, I just walked around the grounds, and then I started to go into the city. I became a ghost to my family: sleeping all day and staying out all night, sometimes not coming back for days. I made a few friends. Fellows who were nothing like me, but who liked to do the same sorts of things."  
  
"Did anyone try to stop you?"  
  
"Yes. My parents both tried to consol me, but they just made it worse. They told me that I would find another girl. It was as if they likened my loss of Madeline to the disappearance of a favorite pair of boots. I realized that neither of them had ever loved like that, so they couldn't understand what she meant to me. When she was with me, I was whole, and without her, I was half a man - incomplete in every way."  
  
"That explains the origins of the troubles. Now how exactly did you meet Voldemort?"  
  
"Marcellus Kempe introduced me."  
  
Jim looked at Tony, who nodded sagely as he asked, "And how did you encounter him?"  
  
"Well, my friends and I had our handful of favorite places that we frequented, and at some point, I noticed that he was always there. Not obtrusively so, but present all the same. He would sit quietly with his drink, wrapped in a ratty old cloak and observe the people around him. I became suspicious that he was working for my father, and would glare at him from time to time, so that he knew that I was aware of him. Well one night, I was supposed to meet up with my friends and I went to the agreed spot. Not only were they not there, but almost no one was there other than Kempe, slumped down in his chair off in the shadows. The tavern keeper, who was usually quite friendly, seemed nervous, and hardly spoke to me at all. I just ignored him at first, but as I sat there, I got more and more angry. Eventually, I went over to his table and threw the remains of my drink in Kempe's face."  
  
Tony coughed to disguise a laugh, and asked, "What in the world did he do?"  
  
"The amazing thing, even to me at the time, was that he did nothing."  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Not a thing. He wiped his face, and said, 'why don't you have a seat Lucius. I think its time that we had a little chat. By the way, I don't work for anyone you know. At least not anyone you know - yet'."  
  
"Why are you wasting your time with these boys, Lucius?" Kempe said as he ordered another round of drinks. "You could be and do so much more - and you know it. You're talented; you've had a good upbringing and a good education. The only thing you really need is an opportunity to prove yourself. I know of someone who could help you."  
  
"I don't need anyone's help. I'm quite capable of . . ."  
  
"No, you don't need help, do you?" he asked with a nasty edge to his voice. "This is what you've always dreamed of doing with your life. You're drunk more than you're awake these days. And I know you've tried drowning them, but your sorrows have learned to swim, haven't they? Now, don't even think about throwing that at me. You'll not get away with it a second time."  
  
I got up and started back to the bar and Kempe whispered, "Lucius, I know what happened between you and the Greenstone girl."  
  
I turned and saw those huge black eyes glittering in the tavern's half- light. "I know about the pain that she and Snape have caused you," he said. "I can't change the past, but I can help you get over it and get on with your life."  
  
"How do you know all this about me?" I asked as I sat back down.  
  
"This man I work for, he's a great man and very perceptive, and he would like to meet you. If you're willing, we can go right now."  
  
I stared back at his care-lined face and that filthy, old cloak and wondered what he really wanted.  
  
"Not money, Lucius. The only thing I want is to give you a chance to make something of yourself. Just come and see for yourself. If things are not to your liking, you are free to leave. There's not much a round-shouldered old fellow like me can do to stop a strapping young man like yourself."  
  
"And I take it, you went with him?" Jim asked  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can . . . you tell us about that night?" Tony prodded  
  
"Sure. Kempe opened a pass in the usual way. First he pressed his palms together in the center of his body as he focused his mind, and then slowly spread his arms wide, opening a dark hole right in front of us. I stepped into the blankness right behind him and we jogged down the tunnel for a few minutes and then Marcus stopped and pulled the pass apart and stepped back into the world.  
  
"It was a brilliantly clear night. I had never seen so many stars in all my life, not even on the Himalayan treks that my brother Damien and I used to go on with our father. We were on a high plain and it was very cold. It had snowed earlier in the evening, and the hills were nestled and silent. We walked around a bend and saw the old Druben fortress in the distance bustling with energy and life.  
  
"Back then, Druben was more magnificent than any palace or private home I had ever seen. The hallways and rooms were decorated with precious objects from around the world and from many different eras. I remember that I felt an incredible sense of history as Kempe led me towards the main reception chamber. The rooms were filled with people of nearly every ethnicity, talking and laughing. I felt that something important must be going on here, to attract so many people from so far away.  
  
"Before we crossed into the main hall, Kempe handed his rough woolen cloak to an attendant, revealing a perfectly tailored black jacket underneath. The gold buttons on the jacket were emblazoned with a circular design of snakes devouring their own tails. He stood straight and tall and instantly seemed younger and stronger than the old man in the tavern. A boy knelt at his feet to clean his boots, and he turned to me with a smirk on his face as our names were announced.  
  
"When the doors opened a wave of scent from burning tobacco mixed with bay and sage met us. The walls of the reception chamber were plastered in ochre and amber tones, and frescoed with a procession of fantastic beasts encircling the room: golden lions and stags paraded against a bright cobalt ground and glistened in the firelight. Above and below the creatures - sunflowers bloomed.  
  
"About twenty people sat on chairs or carpets in front of a large fireplace at the far end of the room. As we approached, they all fell silent and turned toward us. It was immediately clear to me that Voldemort was the leader because of his demeanor. His face was strong and still and he had intelligent, entrancing pale-blue eyes.  
  
"Kempe bowed deeply before him as he said, "Master, this is Lucius Malfoy, the young man that you wanted to meet."  
  
Voldemort looked me over slowly from head to toe and said after long consideration, "Your gifts are Healing and . . . you are also gifted with Persuasion - an unusual combination. And you're powerful, lots of raw, still untrained power, unfortunately being wasted - just frittered away." He paused for a moment, and then said, "Come closer, Lucius."  
  
"I hesitated at first, but Marcellus pushed me forward. Voldemort laid his hand on my shoulder, and I felt a wave pass through me. It was so strong that it would have knocked me backwards but for his tight grip on my arm.  
  
"Oh my poor broken-hearted one," Voldemort began. "You mustn't mourn so for you lost love. She hasn't died, you know."  
  
"She has for me."  
  
"No, you delude yourself. She lives, and she breathes and she has found love with her new husband. Yes, she does love him. But, such are women's changeable ways," he said as he shrugged. "But instead of love, you have found only misery, and self-pity. And you wallow in the past and neglect the present and the future for what might have been. It's a shame, really. For you have so much to offer the world."  
  
Voldemort fell silent and waited for me to respond, but I just stood there, shaking. I remember that I felt fury over the revelations about Madeline, but also gratitude for having found someone who seemed to understand me. I felt another wave pass through me and then He smiled as he said, "Yes, change is in air, Lucius. You desire it, and we can help you achieve it. Together we can make things right. Stay with us for a while, Marcellus and I will help you."  
  
"So I stayed on for several weeks, and at the end of that time, I was initiated as a novice."  
  
"Thank you Lucius, you've been a big help," Jim said as he blotted his parchment, and placed it in the folder with the rest of his notes. "Let's take a break until tomorrow. We'll have lunch sent up, and some of those newspapers and books that you've been asking for."  
  
"That was brilliant!," Jim exclaimed as they ascended the steps from the cell block to the Ministry's main cellar. "Thanks so much for choosing me as your second, Mr. Costello. I can't believe we've got Lucius Malfoy in there!"  
  
"That'll do, Jim," Tony replied with a cautionary air. "You need to curb your enthusiasm, or we're done for."  
  
"What do you mean, sir? From what I can see, he's cooperating nicely."  
  
"So far, Jim. So far. But I tell you, he's a tricky one, ole Lucius is. I still can't believe he volunteered his services. They'll have us believe he just walked into Dumbledore's office after all these years and asked to help. There's more to it than that – there's got to be, and I aim to find out what it is." 


	2. The Outlaw Scholar

Turning Lucius  
  
Greta Jameson  
  
2: The Outlaw Scholar  
  
"Hello Lucius," Tony said as he pushed open the large metal door to his cell. "I trust you slept well and the food was to your liking."  
  
"It'll do."  
  
"Good. This morning we would like to discuss the events that led up to your decision to become a novice. Then, this afternoon, we'll cover the initiation and incorporation rituals. Why don't you start out by telling us about your first few days in Druben?"  
  
"Well, very little happened for the first few days. I was just allowed to wander around the building. I have always been enamored of antiquities, and it was like having free reign in an art gallery. Voldemort collected some of the pieces himself during his travels, but most were given as gifts by visiting scholars and dignitaries. Then there was the magnificent library! I imagined it would have rivaled the one at Nineveh. Manuscripts and tablets on a wide variety of magical subjects. I spent hours sequestered there, and felt engaged and invigorated in ways I had not felt in years."  
  
"So, you were a student of magical theory and history? There's no mention in your school records."  
  
"Theory and history were the private passions of my youth. I translated several early works for myself and made special study of them."  
  
"Really? Fascinating," Tony remarked. "Please continue."  
  
"Right. Umm . . . Well throughout the building, people would gather in small, impromptu groups to discuss and debate magical concepts. Occasionally, a senior court member would answer questions or do a demonstration. At first I just listened, but one afternoon I remember that I came across a group discussing advanced apparition issues. One wizard was insisting that it was possible to prevent apparition and dissaparition simply by knowing how to construct the appropriate boundaries. And another wizard argued that regardless of the boundaries, each was always possible, one simply needed to study the boundary and discover how to work around its limits.  
  
"You're right," I said to the second man, "but for the wrong reasons."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"You're not going to listen to him are you? He is hardly more than a boy," the first wizard said.  
  
But the other fellow bade me continue, so I said, "Well, I believe that one must ignore the existence of the boundary entirely. You see, visibility is our natural state, and the natural state of most materials. If one wishes to either apparate or to dissaparate something, one must simply allow it to be visible wherever you wish it to be."  
  
I apparated one of the library's volumes as I explained, "The early writers were very specific in their use of the word 'supu', which means, 'to let oneself be visible', instead of 'sutapu', which means, 'to make oneself be visible or manifest'. They are consistent throughout most of their writings in the use of the first Akkadian verb, and I don't think that it is an accident. I think that they understood apparition and dissaparition to be complementary states like exhalation and inhalation. And apparition is by far the easier of the two to achieve."  
  
"Who are you?" asked the first wizard.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, visiting scholar from England," replied a familiar soft voice. And we all turned to see Voldemort standing with Marcellus at the edge of the circle. "Thank you Lucius. Now, please return the book to the library and come with us."  
  
"Yes sir," I said as I sent the book back and walked over to him." He frowned at me and said, "Now bring it back here once again," as he glanced sidelong at Marcellus.  
  
Again, I allowed the book to apparate. Only when I saw him glare angrily at me, did I understand that I had superseded one of his own preventive boundaries.  
  
"Now send it back," he said slowly. "And all of you try to stop him!"  
  
"Master please, he doesn't understand what he has done," Marcellus pleaded.  
  
And young fool that I was, I said, "Oh but I do understand, Marcellus! You could get all of the wizards and the witches of the world to oppose me, and it wouldn't make a difference. With all due respect, It's not a matter of power . . . it's a matter of perception."  
  
"Just do it!" Voldemort roared  
  
"I felt his fury and their determination to stop me, but again as I relaxed, the book vanished - or rather, it apparated in the library.  
  
Everyone waited to see what Voldemort would do to me, but not for the last time, Marcellus saved my skin. He said, 'That was an impressive display, Lucius, especially for one as young and inexperienced as yourself. I'm sure the others will join me in thanking you for your demonstration', and he began a round of light applause that carried around the room. Then he whispered something to Voldemort, and they turned to leave. But before Voldemort reached the door, he said without turning round, "Lucius, I would like you to join Marcellus and myself for dinner this evening."  
  
"And I assume you went?" Tony asked.  
  
"Yes of course. One didn't refuse his invitations - not even back then."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Well, he was so different back then. He was more of a scholar. He cared more about knowledge and learning than about the projection of power. And he was much more human than the creature he has become since he was declared the enemy of civilization by all of you," Lucius said waving his hand dismissively.  
  
"You can't be serious . . ." Jim started.  
  
"Completely. None of this would ever have happened, if you hadn't persisted in your relentless hounding. He had to defend himself."  
  
"DEFEND Himself! Is that what you call all the murders committed in his name?" Jim yelled as he pounded the table with his palm.  
  
"And how many of us did you kill?" Lucius snarled back "I'll bet a young man like you has no idea of how many of us your elders did in. You'd probably resign from the service if you knew a little history. You are all at least partially responsible for what he has become!"  
  
"Lucius, I think we are getting a little sidetracked here," Tony began.  
  
"You must remember those days. You must remember what they did to him!" Lucius asked desperately  
  
Jim looked to Tony for a reply, but he turned his head and refused to answer.  
  
"He remembers," Lucius said bitterly. "They took away the only two things in the world that he cared about! First they destroyed his wife - or rather took away her humanity. She was a nagini, and somehow the aurors prevented her from ever becoming human again. And then, only a few days later, they burnt the library. I was there in the aftermath. I remember how he wept and just kept on repeating, 'They burnt my books. The barbarians burnt all of my books.' "  
  
"Its true," Tony began, "We had been at war for almost a decade by that time. We were weary of the carnage and we wanted to do something decisive to destroy him."  
  
"But it didn't destroy him, did it?" Lucius challenged  
  
"No it didn't. And to some degree your right, Lucius. He didn't start out as the same person he is now, but he wasn't as good as you make him out to be either," Tony replied shaking his finger at him. "For a long time we regarded him as a sort of an outlaw scholar, and he peacefully coexisted with our world for many years. But around the time you became an apprentice, we were convinced that scholarship was not his principal goal - it was simply the means by which he acquired power.  
  
"You see, because of his great magical knowledge and the freedom with which he shared it, Dark Arts communities were springing up and challenging the rule of law all over the world. In some remote places, governments had already fallen and were replaced by these semi-communal societies of His design. And whether they were in Africa, or Asia or the Americas, they all had one thing in common - Voldemort was the supreme authority. So you see, His empire building began long before the Ministry and its liaison moved against him. In fact, we are probably still burdened with him, because of our reticence - and of course, incorporation.  
  
Tony sighed and said, "Well, I think we could all use a break. I know I sure could. We'll be back this afternoon to talk some more."  
  
When they were a distance away from Lucius' cell, Jim turned to Tony and asked, "So, Mr. C. did you find out anything more about what brought Malfoy here?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Well, aren't you going to tell me what happened?"  
  
"I can't. I'm not even supposed to know."  
  
"Sometimes I really hate this job, you know that?" Jim muttered  
  
"Well welcome to the club!" Tony snapped loudly as he turned to face the younger man. "Do you think I want to spend my last days down in this stinking dungeon with the likes of a wretched creature like Malfoy? I've got a couple of months left before I retire and I'd much rather spend them wondering what's for lunch in the executive dining room than down here with him or with you for that matter."  
  
"Sorry sir," Jim offered repentantly. "I really am grateful for the opportunity to work with . . . "  
  
"Just shut up," Tony said roughly as remorse crept swiftly in on the heels of his anger. He watched the young man stare at his boots for a few moments before offering, "Look, it has nothing to do with you, alright. There are wheels turning upstairs that go far beyond either of us. I can't tell you much, but I can tell you it has something to do with a woman."  
  
"A woman?" Jim asked incredulously  
  
"Yeah. Seems You Know Who killed one of Lucius' lady friends," Tony replied not telling the new recruit the complete truth."  
  
Jim looked sidelong at Tony as he assessed the sincerity of his words.  
  
"For what it's worth, I don't believe it either," Tony smiled as he continued towards the stairs. "At least not completely. I've known Malfoy for years and I've never known him to have much of a heart, 'cept of course for that spawn of his in Dumbledore's care. Just keep your wits about you. By Gryffindor, we haven't seen the last of Lucius' tricks. I can feel it in my bones." 


	3. Pity Him Not for His Fear

Turning Lucius  
  
Greta Jameson  
  
3: Pity Him Not For His Fear  
  
"We got a little sidetracked this morning Lucius," Tony began. "Can we just quickly go back and talk about those first few days."  
  
"Sure. As I said, I dined with him and Marcellus in his rooms. It was the first of many private meals that we shared during those first weeks."  
  
"Was that amount of attention usually lavished on new recruits?"  
  
"No, I don't think so. I believe that He spent a lot of time with me because of my knowledge of . . . no, my interpretations of early writings. During dinner, he hardly spoke to Marcellus at all, but he questioned me relentlessly about my understanding of early magical theory."  
  
"Why do you think he was so interested in your . . . interpretations?"  
  
"Oh, undoubtedly to increase his own power. That's what underlies every one of his actions and choices. Even back then."  
  
"Thanks. Now, did anything else noteworthy happen in the first days?"  
  
"Not that I can think of, no."  
  
"Then let's discuss incorporation? It wasn't always part of community practices was it?"  
  
"No, it wasn't," Lucius answered quietly. "Sebastian Snape acquired an old tablet copied from the Nineveh library that described incorporation in the early 1980s. After a great deal of debate about the merits and dangers of the practice, Voldemort attempted to incorporate Snape - and it worked perfectly. He acquired Snape's gifts and could share his power, but unlike an ordinary merge, it was permanent. Eventually, Voldemort incorporated some others in the group - Marcellus and a few of his advisors.  
  
"I see. So, when did it become commonplace?"  
  
"I think it was after the first raid that he decided to implement it universally. He was still grieving for his wife who was injured in the raid and felt that if he had incorporated her, he would have been able to save her. So, one by one, he began incorporating all of us until he contained multitudes and became incredibly powerful in the process."  
  
"Thanks. It seems to be a very painful process. We are always trying to understand why young novices volunteer for it, as if it were some great honor."  
  
"Because it is, that's why. And actually the marking is excruciating, but the incorporation isn't painful at all. In fact it's quite nice - really," Lucius said with a small shudder.  
  
"You said it was an honor. What did you mean by that?"  
  
"Well, first off, he has decided that you have a gift or skill that he either desires, or wants more of - that's very flattering, especially to a young person. Second, he has deemed you teachable, and is willing to work with you to help you improve. Third, one not only joins Him, one also joins a large community of interdependent magical beings. And lastly, he lives well, and makes sure that all members of his community are well taken care of. That was, of course, less of a motivator for me than for most others."  
  
"When did you first hear about it?"  
  
"Let's see . . . I had been there for at least two or three weeks. I was talking to Marcellus one afternoon, and he touched his left forearm and said that the Master was calling for him. Later that evening, I asked him about it, and he showed me his mark. I have to admit, I was repulsed at first, not only by the design, but also by the very concept, and I told him so. He chuckled, and said, yes, he had once felt the same way. But, he explained, that the mark binds one to Him, and allows one share his knowledge and power. Marcellus told me, 'He really wants you to stay, Lucius. Think of what you could learn!' I thought about it for a week or two longer, and then decided to take the mark.  
  
"Was there an event that convinced you?"  
  
"No. I just thought about how much I had in Druben - the books, the camaraderie with an international community of scholars, and mentorship of Marcellus and Voldemort. Then I compared it to what little awaited me on the outside."  
  
"I see. And Voldemort's reaction to your decision was what?"  
  
"He was ecstatic! He embraced me, and announced my decision at court that evening. Everyone cheered, and congratulated me."  
  
"We know a bit about the marking. Just tell us briefly about that."  
  
"First one is bled. One's mentor - in my case it was Marcellus - slashed the palm of one's right hand with a large glass knife."  
  
"A glass knife?"  
  
"Volcanic glass - probably obsidian given its dark color. And a large amount of blood is collected in a silver bowl. Then Marcellus branded my forearm as you see here," Lucius said unfastening his cufflink and rolling up his sleeve. "Wait, that's not right."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look at the swelling, and the dark color. I've seen it like this before, certainly. But its usually, quite painful when it looks like this. I can't feel anything at all, right now."  
  
"Well, that should be good news, no? It not hurting at all," Tony said as he drew his cloak more closely about him, even though it wasn't particularly cold. "Does someone hold you, to help you bear the pain?"  
  
"Not allowed. The novice stands alone, and they expect you to watch as well, which was the worst part for me. Watching my own palm being sliced and the piercing cold of the knife - it was awful."  
  
"Was Voldemort there?" Jim asked as he knocked over the ink in front of him. "Oh, terribly sorry, please continue" he said magically clearing the table.  
  
"Yes. He stood only a few feet away, and observed everything closely, without saying a word."  
  
As Lucius spoke Jim unfolded the small piece of parchment that Tony had passed him and read: 'Get Snape - Now!'  
  
"Oh! You know, I'm supposed to meet with Dumbledore in a few minutes. I really must be going."  
  
"Right," Tony said as he continued, "Lucius, what's the purpose of the marking and bleeding?"  
  
"You know, its odd you should ask about it that way. Over the years, I've come to believe that it has no purpose. It's simply done to test the mettle of the new recruits. To see just how much they are willing to go through for Him. All of the magic seems to go on in the incorporation part of the ceremony, which takes place a week or so after marking."  
  
"And what happens to the blood?"  
  
"I don't know. Voldemort carries it off somewhere . . . Ohhh! The mark - it's starting to ache now."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that. We'll finish up soon. Tell me, do they do anything to care for the wounds?"  
  
"The hand is bandaged up straight away. But the arm is made icy cold and then covered with some sort of powder that feels a bit like sand. Then a thick layer of salve is placed on top of that . . . Ohh! Its getting quite bad now," he said clenching his fist to try to control the pain. "Then the arm is wrapped. Marcellus inspected the dressing every morning and every evening. He also checked my skin and eyes carefully, and I was given a potion to lessen the pain. Again, I've come to suspect that the potion is more than an analgesic."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I think it might somehow help prepare the novice for incorporation."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Ugh . . .I don't know. I was very tired for the entire time between marking and incorporation. I didn't move around much at all."  
  
"Now, what happens during the actual incorporation?"  
  
"Well in those days, there was a big ceremony full of sound and fury. In more recent years, He has abandoned the pageantry and simply shares the wine and lays his hands on . . .Ohhh, I really can't continue," he hissed and leaned forward on the table.  
  
"Please, just try to finish. Then we'll see about getting you something for the pain."  
  
Lucius sat bolt upright and stared back at him with wide eyes.  
  
"Is everything alright?" Tony asked calmly, even though he knew terror when he saw it.  
  
"Master, please help me. . ." Lucius whispered.  
  
Beneath his cloak, Tony firmly grasped his wand in his right hand, just in case.  
  
Snape pushed open the door to the cell, and Lucius screamed and flew to the far corner.  
  
"Lucius, you're safe. We're here to help you,"  
  
Lucius only stared back at him as he drew his arms to the center of his body.  
  
"There's no telling what he's seeing now," Snape whispered to Tony who now stood by his side.  
  
Snape knocked twice on the door and Jim came back in the room. But before the door shut, Lucius rushed forward, trying to escape. Snape grabbed him and tried to wrestle him to the ground. "I could use a little help here!" he called and both aurors joined him in pinning Lucius to the floor.  
  
"He's a strong one!" Jim remarked.  
  
"He thinks he's fighting for his life."  
  
"One, two, three and over to the bed," Snape said over Lucius' guttural screams. And with some difficulty they tied him tightly to the metal frame cot, as he began to cry, "Please, don't . . . I don't want to die this way . . . I'll do anything you say!"  
  
"Shhh . . .we're not going to hurt you Lucius. We're friends. I'm going to give you something to make the pain go away," Snape said reassuringly as he pulled out a potion vial.  
  
"No, please!"  
  
"If you drink this, we'll see about letting you go."  
  
Lucius looked for a long time at Snape. "You, I trust. But I still don't like them," he whispered as he suspiciously eyed the aurors.  
  
"Well they only do what I tell them to do," Snape whispered as if sharing a secret.  
  
"Really? Those things are under your command?"  
  
"Yes. Here, have some of this," he said as he placed the vial to Lucius' lips. "That's right. Now, you need to get some rest. We'll talk again later."  
  
Snape sighed as Lucius drifted off, and turned to the aurors and said, "He'll need another dose in about four to six hours.  
  
"How long will he be out of his head like this?" Jim asked looking from Tony to Snape.  
  
"Two, maybe three days," Tony replied. "That's how long Severus was out for, if I remember correctly."  
  
Snape nodded and said, "I'll sit with him midnight to six, but am going back to the school now. Call me if you need me."  
  
Jim shut and locked the door behind him and said, "He was so terrified when we came in . . . I almost feel sorry for him."  
  
"Well don't." Tony replied bluntly. "He has heard countless people plead for their lives over the years, and never showed them any mercy. Pity him for other reasons, perhaps, but not for his fear." 


	4. Awakening

Turning Lucius  
  
Greta Jameson  
  
4: Awakening  
  
Lucius lay on his back with his eyes closed. He had been conscious for several minutes, but maintained the deep, rhythmic breathing of a sleeper and had not opened his eyes for the dread. He did not know who or what he was fearful of, but he was apprehensive all the same. He slowly tried to lift his left hand and then his right. Yes, he was tied down - and whoever bound him was probably nearby, waiting for him to wake. The remnants of a foul, bitter flavor still filled his mouth, and he felt weak. He tried to recall recent events and only remembered speaking to that old . . . auror? Had he been captured? Surely they wouldn't dare! Ministry raids were one thing, but imprisonment and interrogation was something totally different.  
  
Keys jangled and a heavy door slowly opened.  
  
"You mean he still hasn't come to?"  
  
"No, still sleeping peacefully," the deep, familiar voice replied. "Not a word for the past few hours."  
  
"Fine. Call us when he wake,." the man whispered, as he closed and relocked the door.  
  
"Severus, what's going on? How did I . . ."  
  
"Ahh . . . so you were awake."  
  
"How did I get here?"  
  
Snape smiled sadly at him, "You don't remember anything, do you?"  
  
"No I don't. Come on, untie me and let's be off."  
  
"I'm afraid it's not so simple my old friend. You work for Albus now. You volunteered your services after . . ."  
  
"Alright, the jokes over, Severus. Release me this instant, or I'll . . ." Lucius said as he tried to get up.  
  
"You volunteered your services after Voldemort killed Miranda," Snape continued loudly.  
  
Lucius sank back onto the bed and turned his head towards the wall. Miranda's name brought back a torrent of memories that swept him away.  
  
"You have given information to the aurors about your recruitment and incorporation, and you have agreed to continue reporting after you return to Druben," Snape answered as he untied Lucius' hands.  
  
"For the love of a woman I have betrayed everything I believe in!" Lucius choked.  
  
"It was her dying wish."  
  
"No. I've changed my mind. I've done all that I'm going to do for Dumbledore."  
  
"Once again Lucius, its not so simple. Over the past few days, you have talked at length about some of your deeds. The aurors have been able to resolve quite a few open cases. If you don't continue to help us, they have enough information to send you to Azkaban for several lifetimes."  
  
"No choice, then."  
  
"You always have a choice. At least in our world you do," Snape said as he removed the rest of Lucius' bonds. "The last few days have been difficult. You probably feel awful. Much of what you feel is a consequence of the ebbing of Voldemort's power over you. You did not answer his most severe summons, and subsequently he will be less able to influence you. In a few days or weeks, perhaps, you will be free."  
  
"Hah! We have very different definitions of freedom! "  
  
"I know. You need a little time to think things over," Snape said as he walked towards the door. "I'll have some food sent up, and newspapers are over there on the desk." He put his hand in his pocket and said, "Oh, yes . . . I almost forgot. We found this when we were cleaning out Miranda's room. Albus thought you should have it."  
  
Lucius lay curled on his side. Snape was right, he did have choices. The problem was that none of them were any good. He could flee East and tell Voldemort that he was captured but that he had escaped. Alternatively, he could refuse to cooperate any further and spend the rest of his days in prison. Or he could do as Albus asked and quietly work to undermine Voldemort's return to power. If he wasn't killed, he would be allowed to live openly though cautiously in this world.  
  
He ran his finger round the edge of the framed portrait of Miranda that Snape had given him. Her dark eyes and proud face gazed regally back at him, and then she smiled gently as her eyes moved over him and she silently said his name. He closed his eyes and imagined her final minutes. He saw her fair skin charred and broken by Voldemort's greedy, hateful bolts. He heard her cry out in pain and knew which path he had to tread. 


End file.
